


The Wind Which Howls Beneath Us.

by Jem (letalloursingingfollowhim)



Category: Hadestown - Mitchell
Genre: (Demeter and Calliope), (That's implied everytime but I'm going to add it lol), Angst, Autistic Orpheus (Hadestown), Canon Compliant, Crying, F/M, Hades represses all of his emotions, His wife used alcohol, I Made Myself Cry, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, No happy endings, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Someone give Orpheus a Hug, The Fates - Freeform, There is literally no fluff here, implied/referenced suicidal ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:21:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24371965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letalloursingingfollowhim/pseuds/Jem
Summary: Eurydice's damned to Hadestown: Orpheus has to cope with the loss of his wife, and Persephone and Hades have to cope with the loss of the light from her eyes.Alternative title: why too much hope is a bad thing.
Relationships: Eurydice/Orpheus (Hadestown), Hades/Persephone (Hadestown)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 28





	1. Gone, I'm Gone. (Eurydice).

**Author's Note:**

> I hyperfixated for six hours to get this written and a further hour and a half to edit this,,,,,,,, but this was fun to write, sad, but fun. The summary's a bit wild, but the chapter will be explained further as we go through. This is one of my favourite fics I've written, I think. It's a lot darker than the usual fluff you'd find in my AU, and almost devoid of cuddles lol. I made myself cry while writing this.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eurydice's first day in Hadestown. But it's more than her first day - it details her other days, the days she forgets.

_"It's you..."_

_"It's me.."_

_Gone. She was gone._

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

Bright.

Artificial, yellow lights in an abundance, highlighting the city. Lights which flowed into each corner, every crevice, every crack; onto the clothing of the workers, going deeper than the layer of clothing, burning the skin. Artificial light is different to regular lighting in that, from the sun, you could often get a brief quell from a cloud covering the yellow ball of light. But with the artificial light, there was no break, no relief from the ever present pounding of light and heat. The lights were just as hot as the sun.

The sweltering heat cut deep into the bones of the workers; sweat formed across their brow, unable to get away from the blazing heat of the Underworld. The heat was simply perpetuated by the artificial lights which were low hanging, their heat and light ablaze. For a town so dim and dark, wired and oil filled, it was incredibly hot and bright.

Eurydice fell to her knees. The cobble stones reaching the soft skin quicker than she realised, grazing them as she did so, blood welling from the light scratches. Less than three steps away from where the fallen muse knelt, was the entrance and the exit. The entrance to Hadestown: a large, gilded gate, with black markings in profusion. The gates which separated the black path that had hot, heavy air surrounding it, from the tree-filled, light air paths. A path of the Overground.

Rage filled the girl, almost as hot and burning as the heat from behind her was. The rage tore through her as she cried out, slamming her fists in repetition on the stone ground, hoping the pounding would do something to dull the pain in her heart. But it wasn't long before her knuckles were tender and bloodied, light purple bruises flowering out in each direction of her hand, skin split.

Eurydice didn't stop. She didn't stop until all the strength had left her body, until her hand's fingers were swollen and purple. Eurydice didn't want to stop as rage turned into desperation - the desperate call for Orpheus, voice dripping with hopelessness, the call for her poet.

Breathless and exhausted, Eurydice cradled herself, covering her ears with her hands, wishing that it would block out more than just the clanging of metal and din of machinery. Eurydice wished she could block out the noise, the taunting inside her head, the loud voices which told her neither she nor Orpheus were strong enough to fight, that if they had loved each other more, trusted each other more, then she would be in his arms, close and holding each other tight.

But Eurydice wasn't - she wasn't in the arms of anyone who loved her. She was in the tight clutches of Mr Hades, of Hadestown, of the Underworld itself. Eurydice was held like a songbird in a cage, confined to one place for the rest of her life, destined into hollow-eyed nothingness. A songbird who has forgotten her song.

Tears filled her eyes for the first time since she'd gotten to Hadestown, the rage and desperation bubbling over to fear, tugging at her heart and mind until she felt nauseous. Eurydice cried, cried into her rough overalls, holding herself as she wished she had the strength to tear at her hands and arms, to feel the physical pain which would distract her from the ever growing empty feeling sitting at her chest, directly in place of where her heart should be.

Eurydice couldn't bare to look back, to look at the looming gate, not one so close to where she could not reach. But Eurydice also couldn't bare to look to Hadestown - to the bright light and sounds of metallic clangs. Eurydice knew you forget in Hadestown, it was the inevitable, and it had happened before. Briefly, her mind crossed to begging Mr Hades to make her forget - make her forget it all. Mr Hermes' bar, her poet, the songs he sung. Everything. It would be easier to forget.

The young girl wasn't sure how long she had been crying on the dark and cobbled pathway before she felt the hand of someone touch her shoulder, a touch as light as a feather. For a moment, Eurydice had hoped it was Orpheus, the thought crossing her mind in a split-second before she willed herself to take a glance up to the hand, closer to the light of Hadestown.

It belonged to Persephone - the Goddess of Spring; Queen of the Underworld.

Persephone looked down at Eurydice, her own eyes had a particular shine of sadness, glassy and sorrowful. Usually, Eurydice would be one to greet Persephone with a joyful smile and tales to tell, but this time, she cowered away from the Goddess, knowing it was her who would bring her back to Hades, back into the insufferable light and heat.

"C'mere," Persephone nodded and sat down beside Eurydice, gently flattening out her dark dress to sit neatly. "I knew you'd be here," Persephone spoke again, reaching her arms out to Eurydice.

"No..." Eurydice rasped, lowering her head to her chest again, trying to drown out the sound of her thumping heart beat and the hammering in her chest.

"You need to eat something," Persephone hummed, pulling her arms back, looking at Eurydice with commiseration, her own chest fluttering and mind clouded with thoughts. It would get to the stage, Eurydice knew, that she needed nothing more to eat – she wouldn't feel empty anymore, she wouldn't feel full anymore.

Eurydice shook her head, beginning to dig her nails into her palms, wishing only to be left alone, allow herself to starve to death or die of dehydration. There was no point in even toying with the idea of living anymore. Hadestown wasn't living anway, not in the conventional sense at least. Eurydice was dead to the world, not to herself yet, but to the world. Why couldn't she just be left to die to both the world and herself, then?

"Leave me alone," Eurydice spat, the anger that shone through her voice wasn't true, used only to mask her despair.

"Can't," Persephone shrugged. "Hades," the Goddess stopped, voice wavering ever so slightly. "Told me I gotta get you back..."

"I don't want to go back," Eurydice spoke with irritation, digging her nails further into her palms, feeling them close to drawing blood. "Let me die here."

Persephone let out a small, dissatisfied noise, shaking her head slowly. It wasn't the time tell Eurydice that she couldn't die here, that to stop living here was impossible, that, simply, Eurydice would forget, forget her life; she would become like the other workers, mindless, thoughtless. The workers were not empty nor full, hot nor cold, dead nor alive.

"You've got to, Songbird. It'll feel better to sleep, let yourself rest for a while."

Eurydice wanted to protest again, tell Persephone no, keep herself sat by the gate. But a wave of hopelessness washed over Eurydice, making her arms go limp and her breathing shallow. Eurydice understood Orpheus wasn't coming back anymore - she understood from the start, but hoped, hoped with everything, it hadn't happened - understood that this was how she was to live from now on. A feeling of submission to everything took its strong grips on Eurydice as she nodded.

"Okay," Eurydice mumbled, her eyes trained to the floor as Persephone helped her up, tsking at her bloodied knuckles and palms.

"We'll get your hands cleaned up too," Persephone sighed, tenderly assessing what she'd done. "You can stay in the manor with Hades and I, or in your own apartment." Persephone hoped Eurydice would choose Hades and herself, at least for a while, because Persephone was afraid of the younger girl doing something rash.

"Okay," Eurydice repeated again, slowly, mind trained on nothing much anymore.

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

The first thing which Eurydice forgot was her name. She could hear the winds call it sometimes, sometimes at the start when she began to mine, recklessly hacking away at dark, black coal. But the winds went quieter later on.

The next thing Eurydice forgot was her childhood - she didn't mind this as much, forgetting the harshness of what had occurred, the cold, the starving, the desperation, the running away. All of that Eurydice would've forgotten in a heartbeat.

The third thing to go were dreams. Another thing Eurydice didn't mind - the dreams when she began at Hades were dark, powerful, sour and cryptic. For them to go next was much of a relief for Eurydice, no more waking up with her hair matted with sweat on her forehead, wishing for nothing more than to be held in the arms of Orpheus. The dreams leaving were better than the painful dreams of her love, too.

It took years for the last memory that Eurydice clung onto to leave. She wasn't sure how long that time was, it all seemed the same down there. The mass of lights and heat, empty eyes and repeated actions. The last thing to go was the last thing that kept Eurydice clinging to her life, the life in the conventional sense.

It was a song.

A song from long ago, a song that had played in her mind, getting quieter and shorter with each passing day. Soon, the singer of the song left her mind too, but Eurydice didn't remember the name leaving, or the last time she had whispered the name, _"Orpheus."_

The song began long, consisting of many notes - high ones, low ones, joyful ones. But with each month, each year, the song got shorter, got quieter. Until eventually, Eurydice remembered three notes. The three notes kept her eyes with life, her body knowing and moving with her own thoughts.

" _La, la, la_ ," Eurydice hummed one night, the only thing she seemed to say nowadays, no point in having a conversation, no one to speak to.

" _La, la, la_ ," Eurydice repeated, closing her eyes gently. She didn't need sleep, not anymore at least, but she sometimes took a moment to close her eyes as she worked.

" _La, la, la_ ," Eurydice spoke for the final time.

With the opening of her eyes and another swing of her pickax, Eurydice forgot. She was no longer Eurydice - she hadn't been Eurydice for years -, but she was no longer alive, no longer alive to anyone anymore. Eurydice was one of the workers now - empty eyed and thoughtless movements.

Eurydice wasn't Eurydice anymore.

  
  



	2. Wait For Me. (Orpheus).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orpheus' first day without Eurydice and the life that comes after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually cried writing this chapter. :)

_"It's you..."_

_"It's me.."_

_Gone. She was gone._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Numbness is a difficult thing to describe, coming with inordinate sadness, feeling like the centre of your bones are made of lead, like your blood is made of mercury. The way the feeling of being numb spreads from your heart outwards, filling your body with freezing cold ice, shivering despite the gentle autumn sun. Limbs unable to be moved, despite the will and the want.

An empty head was worse than a filled one; with an empty mind, it felt like the winds could say whatever they wanted to, whisper whatever the they wanted to into the empty minds. _Doubt. She isn't following you._ Were sounds winds liked to make. The winds came into an empty mind harsher once you followed them for the first time - taunting and laughing, happy to have a free-range to an empty mind. _You can never go back._

The the path was close to changing from the rough cobblestone to the smooth, lighter coloured, cement path before he turned around, before he listened to the winds. A second or so later and Orpheus would have been on the smooth path, able to feel the beating heart of Eurydice close to his own. But all Orpheus could feel now was the rapid pound of his own heart and the blood rushing in his ears, his body too numb to feel any of the pain from the injuries which he had sustained.

His eyes were fixed on the golden and black gate, the gate which signified the threshold of Hadestown, unable to shift his eyes from one position, the first place his eyes seemed to fall onto the moment when he collapsed to his knees. _What if Eurydice is looking at the same place?_ Orpheus thought, staring with more intent as the thought crossed his mind, anything to catch a glimpse of her again.

Tears didn't try to fall, Orpheus' eyes not even beginning to dampen, his mind encased only in shock and sorrow. He had never felt this feeling before - not even when he realised that Mr Hermes would become his main caretaker whenever Calliope struggled to do so, not even when he was a small child. This was different from anything he had ever felt before.

Orpheus forgot how to breathe for just a moment.

"Orpheus!" the sound of Hermes didn't break Orpheus' gaze, it barely even registered in his mind, even though he knew Hermes would be waiting for him, and they both had hoped, Eurydice.

If Orpheus could find words, he would scream. He would scream and thrash and pull at his hair and skin, Orpheus would cry too. Cry for everything that was, could have been, and everything that was not. He would cry until his eyes dried and he had no tears left able to be cried. But the tears wouldn't come.

"Orpheus," Hermes tried again, a hand gently resting onto Orpheus' shoulder, voice low.

"I turned, Mister Hermes," Orpheus spoke, barely above a whisper, so quiet he was surprised Hermes could hear it. Speaking the words felt like moving boulders.

"I know," Hermes nodded, voice solemn. "I know."

"I'm sorry," Orpheus whispered again, his tongue feeling like lead in his mouth, not wanting to move the ways he wanted it to.

"Let's get ya home," Hermes suggested, not knowing how to nor willing to take Orpheus' apology. "I'll get you a drink too."

"Eurydice," Orpheus simply said, voice still the same broken whisper as before, still staring out to the gilded gate, body still as rigid and unmoving as when he had turned around.

"I'll check up on her when I visit Persephone," Hermes offered - it was both the most and the least that he could do for the boy. "For now, you can grieve, you know that."

"Eurydice," Orpheus spoke again, ignoring Hermes, his voice coming out more like a broken sob than the same whisper as it had been.

Without warning, thoughts flooded Orpheus' mind, and not just the voices of the wind, but strong thoughts, thoughts of his own, images of what he had done. _What he did._ Orpheus had turned back.

"Eurydice," Orpheus spoke for the third time, this time with tears streaming down his face, silent tears at first, silent tears whilst he was still unmoving at the threshold.

But it wasn't long before guilt started to seep in - hot and suffocating. It was much more of a different feeling from the painful numbness that Orpheus had felt for as long as he had been staring at the gate (how long that was, he wasn't sure). But when guilt came it, it was like a fire had been set ablaze in his stomach and mind, hotter than the depths of Hadestown; burning.

Orpheus truly cried for the first time, no longer the silent tears which had already begun to dry. Racking sobs instead, his entire body shaking, while his eyes stayed fixed on the gate, even with the sobbing he couldn't remove them, despite the blurring of his vision. The poor boy couldn't remember the last time he had felt this much disdain towards himself or the fiery pain of saddness. He was angry too, angry even if he didn't realise it. Angry at himself, angry at Hades, angry at the wind.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeated over and over again between his sobbing as Hermes sat down beside him, reaching an arm over to his shoulder in order to try and calm the poet down.

"It's normal to feel like this, it'd be unusual if you ain't feeling like this," Hermes mused. He'd felt grief before, even for a God it still felt the same everytime, anger and dispare, the pain that comes with it.

Tears. Screaming. Turning on himself. All Hermes could do was hold the poor boy, tell him that everything he was feeling was normal and that it would get better. The poet wasn't sure how long he cried into Hermes; but it was long enough for his head to begin to ache and his throat to feel raw. But the fire didn't quell - nothing calmed the boy; nothing Hermes could say or do were enough, nothing was enough to bring Orpheus from the spot he turned or to bring Eurydice back to him. Any hope Orpheus had ever felt before that moment had been crushed.

It had been many years since Hermes had seen Orpheus in such a way; crying so piercing and sorrowful that it was painful to hear. Orpheus curled up into Hermes, the way he had when he was a young boy, repeating the words _I'm sorry_ and _Eurydice_ over and over again, rocking himself gently with each tearfilled word and cry.

Orpheus exhausted himself. He exhausted himself by the gate where he had turned, thoughts of Eurydice and only Eurydice as his exhausted mind and body began to fall asleep unwittingly, head dropping to Hermes' lap. Despite Orpheus' age and height, it was still as though he was the young boy Hermes had first met, the naive child who came into Hermes' care, confused by the world.

Orpheus wasn't naive anymore; Orpheus had seen the way the world was now, that things could change, could be lost in a split-second, in one thought or one choice. Orpheus understood this now. Even if he was sobbing, half asleep, on Hermes' lap, Oprheus wasn't the naive young boy anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't as easy as Hermes had told Orpheus it would be. He'd told Orpheus that the grieving process was normal, that he'd feel different stages, but it would end up okay, he'd remember Eurydice as a fond memory, a name beautiful to think of and a beautiful name to say. Her name was like a melody, Hermes reminded Orpheus, reminding him of one of the first things which he had ever said to her.

Orpheus couldn't say the name Eurydice for a year. He couldn't pick up his guitar for even longer; the melody he once sung so proudly, grateful for the fact he was able to bring the world back into tune, was not heard for a further handful of years.

Hollow eyes and a gaunt face - Orpheus used everything he thought of to try to cope with the loss of Eurydice, the methods all being detrimental to himself. The methods had scared Hermes more than he'd like to admit, scared Hermes to the point he got Orpheus to stay with him above the bar during the worst of it, whenever Orpheus refused food or began to harm himself. Hermes made sure he was getting the basic care, the simplest of needs met.

When spring came again, Persephone arranged a meeting with Orpheus, explaining that all Eurydice would talk about was him, singing his melody non-stop. Orpheus had cried. He'd cried and shut himself off to the world until Persephone left - he wanted to hear about Eurydice, he truly did, but he couldn't face the thoughts of it.

Each spring became easier to hear the tales of the Underworld, Persephone often over exaggerating Eurydice's happiness and feats, not wanting to upset the poet about the muse more than he had already felt broken down by it.

Forty years had passed since the world had been brought to tune again, since spring and autumn came when they were supposed to, Persephone returning and leaving on time. Forty years since Orpheus had turned, and it still hurt. It still felt like a blazing fire in his chest whenever he thought about it for a second too long, still caused his eyes to tear up whenever he recalled that day.

Orpheus died sixty-three years, seven months and eight days after he had damned Eurydice to Hadestown.

It had been sixty-three years since he had seen Eurydice again. But he had never once forgotten her.

But, after the waiting, the tears, the screaming, Orpheus still didn't see his lover; he didn't see Eurydice again.

After all this time.

  
  



	3. The Gods Have Forgotten The Song Of Their Love. (Hades and Persephone).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hades and Persephone argue sometimes. But they argue a lot about Eurydice, it seems.  
> Their first and last argument about the Songbird.

Adjusting eyes from beaming, bright lights to the dimness of a hallway was difficult, even for someone who was very used to it; seeing the strange blobs of colour and light for a brief few moments before the eyes get used to the change of saturation and tone, even if the world seems too dim for just a moment. Stepping in from the scent of metal and dirt, and from the sound of factories and machinery was an adjustment too, the expectance to hear the awful racket of the metallic noises and smell the awful scent of rubble. But inside was quiet and dull, a light scent of rosé wine.

Persephone had been out all day, so the inside of their manor was an adjustment for her. Hades had gotten one of the workers to send for her, he had matters of discussion he had to talk about. They hadn't spoken since properly since Orpheus had turned around, speaking only when Persephone had found Eurydice so broken down by the gate, in a woeful state, then again not sharing words since Persephone had overheard Hades reminding the young girl that her contract was no longer broken.

"You called?" Persephone stumbled, her voice a light slur as she stepped into Hades' dark office, distastefully dark, the way he liked it.

Persephone had been out drinking - taking in how awful Hadestown had become, the sadness and anguish for the workers, the blinding and blazing lights that hung just a little too low. Persephone remembered how it was. She remembered when their marriage was content, the loving gestures shown on a daily basis, names for each other, and a contend marriage... Persephone had seen so much of them in Orpheus and Eurydice.

"Sit down," Hades snarled, noticing the bottle in his wife's hand. "We haven't spoken since you brought Eurydice here." He continued, his chest tightening ever so slightly as he said it. It wasn't how he wanted it to happen. _The damn winds, always calling out to people, the fools who decide to listen._

"Yeah," Persephone gave a short, sharp, fake laugh before taking another swig of the wine bottle in her hand. Hard to get through a conversation with Hades without it nowadays.

"Put that down," Hades gestured to the bottle, his lips tight.

"Nah," Persephone laughed the same laugh once again, taking another drink. "What'd ya want to bother me about?" Persephone didn't intend to come across as cocky or as sharp as she had, but the alcohol made her mouth loose.

"Have you spoken to Eurydice again?" Hades seemed to waver over the name, like it was too fragile to speak, like the letters would break if they rolled off his tongue in the wrong way.

"Have you?" Persephone questioned, spitting the you. "King of the Underworld,” she added, her voice a tense, vexed, tease.

"Persephone..." Hades sighed, deeming it useless to speak to his wife while in this intoxicated state.

Persephone had brought her back to the Manor to meet with Hades on the first day which Eurydice had arrived, cleaned her up and set her out a plate of food, even if it wasn't like food was much of a need anymore. Eurydice had chosen the apartment over living in the Manor suggestion - Persephone would've preferred Eurydice to stay with them, for a little while at least. It had been clear to Persephone that Eurydice's state wasn't a good one. It scared Persephone, she didn't want Eurydice do to something harsh or impulsive.

"Listen, I ain't responsible for your workers, Hades," Persephone replied, biting back a sour taste that crept into her mouth as she said that. Hades may be responsible for them, but Eurydice was Persephone's _friend._

"You're right!" Hades growled, sarcasm dripping from his tone. "How about I just go ahead and leave Eurydice? Treat her like everyone else?" Hades didn't want that, even, but it was the only way to make his wife do something. Hades had hated to see how distraught Eurydice had been, the nonchalant tone and submissive ways whenever he'd called her to her office.

Persephone drew in a breath, swinging herself back on the uncomfortable wooden chair, taking another sip of the bitter wine. "Yeah! Why don't ya just do that?" Persephone replied, irritation creeping in.

"Perfect!" Hades replied, looking down intently at the ledger sitting in front of him, half filled in with scrawls. He hated to argue with his wife, but they seemed all too frequent.

The silence in the room was deafening. Persephone's mind was a whir with regret, the alcohol accentuating the thoughts as she tried to bite back angry tears. She wasn't even particularly angry at Hades, merely frustrated, but angry at herself and the replies she'd been giving. In the past few days, Persephone had been drinking more, unable to contain the grief and sadness she felt upon finding Eurydice by the gate, even if she had expected to see her so.

Taking another long sip, Persephone sighed. Neither Hades nor Persephone knew how long had passed by the time Persephone spoke again.

"Do ya want me to fetch her?" Persephone asked, her voice low and quiet.

Hades nodded, not looking up from the ledger. "Yes, bring her here."

With a swift movement, Persphone stood up, still graceful despite the alcohol intake. Her ability to always have grace and precision with her movements, even when drunk, was something which tended to surprise people.

That was not the last time that they argued about Eurydice, or Hadestown, or Orpheus... but it was one of the only times neither wanted to speak about. Persephone couldn't bare that she had agreed with Hades on that, and Hades couldn't bare that he'd even suggested it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Persephone didn't cry often, she'd never been much of a tearful person - she'd shed a few when living with Demeter had gotten awful with her comments about Hades, and she'd shed a few whenever Hades and herself argued, but in the time that Eurydice had been in Hadestown, she'd shed more than she could count.

While Eurydice was in the mines, she'd forgotten the last thing that kept the light present in her eyes. Eurydice had forgotten the song which brought the world back into tune. Persephone hadn't known Eurydice had forgotten, in fact, it took her three days to realise, three days to realise the light from behind Eurydice's eyes had gone, dimmed to no more, now a mindless workers like the others of Hades, the ones who didn't sign incomprehensible contracts like Eurydice had, not understanding a word of what had been written.

_How oblivious could she have been?_

The moment Persephone took a long glance at Eurydice, she realised. That was one of the reasons Persephone cried - her eyes filling up with tears as she gently gasped, barely able to tell Eurydice apart from the other workers for the first time in years. Rows and rows hacking away at the rocks and stones, the same pace, the same sound, the same movement, in rhythm with each other.

Covering her face, Persephone turned around, tears streaming down her face. Hope was a big thing, but not something which was in abundance in the Underworld. But Persephone had hope - she had had the hope that Eurydice would able to hold onto the "la, la, la" for a little longer, hope that Eurydice might magically remember, hope that Hades would be able to do _something._

Without thinking, Persephone headed back to the Manor. She had to ask Hades to do something - anything -. Tears continued to fall as she ascended the stairs, not bothering to hold her dress as she did so.

Knocking on the dark, mahogany door to Hades' study, Persephone walked in, taking a seat on the chair she took all the years ago with their first argument over Eurydice. The memory flooded back, biting at her, painful and still seeming so fresh.

"Persephone?" Hades inquired, his voice softer than she had heard in a while.

Their marriage may be more reconciled than it had been in sometime, but there still had been rocky patches. There would _always_ be rocky patches.

"Lover, what's the matter?" Hades asked, standing up out of his chair to bring a chair beside his wife.

"Eurydice..." Persephone managed to say, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve.

_Why did she cling to the stupid and unreasonable hopes?_

"Is there anything... _anything_... you can do?" Persephone asked, her voice a plead, a tone of hopelessness which Hades hadn't heard from his wife in such a long time.

"What happened?" Hades asked, a sigh punctuating his sentence - he had his ideas.

"She...she lost the song..." Persephone replied, tears falling in rapids down her face, dampening her skin as they continued.

"I can't do anything, Seph, I've told you." Hades' voice was unintentionally snappish, he didn't mean for it to be, but he was tired, frustrated, and hated to refuse Persephone with the things he found unsafe to do.

"No..." Persephone's voice was breathy. "No," she repeated, getting up from her chair, an unsual, burning anger rose in her throat as she shook her head. "You can do something, Hades!" Persephone declared, turning herself out of the door.

"You know I can't, Persephone," Hades called down the hallway to an empty hall, frustration piqued as he hoped his wife would come back to his office soon, ready to discuss what they could do about this – about everything -.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hades and Persephone didn't tend to discuss Eurydice anymore... not since their last argument, not since she had lost her last memory. Eurydice was a worker now, and Persephone and Hades would need to forget her, treat her like every other worker in Hadestown, they needed to stop thinking of the memories of Eurydice, she was one of the other mindless workers now.

Even much later on, the thought of the Songbird crossed their minds: either a sour memory or sweet memory, depending on which thought popped up. Sometimes it would involve Hermes and Orpheus too, nights spent drinking at the bar together, but other times Persephone couldn't stop herself from pondering back to the first day Eurydice came to Hadestown, the day she lost her own name, and the day she lost her last memory, the last one of her lover.

Persephone shed a few more tears for her and Hades blamed himself.

But there was no point - all Eurydice was anymore was another worker, dead, and dead to the world. All Orpheus was, was a lovesick, broken poet. All Hades and Persephone were were Gods, Gods who often forgot their love, left their passion and desire far behind. The King and Queen of the Underworld, just as broken as the mortals Overground.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments still make me cry :) (happy)
> 
> \- Jem.


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